The link takes readers to the Post's Ken Babb, who chronicles one of the more peculiar departures in recent memory.

Just one of the more bizarre moments of Shanahan's firing was how Morris decided to answer pointed questions about the newly ousted head coach.

Rather than regale the media with clichéd answers about how the team was still a cohesive unit or how they plan on looking forward, he let his heart lead the way.

After profiling Robert Griffin III's response, Babb writes, "Another Shanahan draft pick, running back Alfred Morris, also declined to speak Monday morning, saying he needed to leave immediately if he was to make it to Chick-fil-A before it stopped serving breakfast."

To be fair, there is no more important culinary window than the one offered by fast-food restaurants for breakfast. It's a temporal annoyance akin to Disney throwing its best movies into "the vault." It's also why we tip our hats toward Jack in the Box for allowing us to get our breakfast on at all hours of the day.

Anyone who has ever been fortunate enough to wake up on Saturday at 10 a.m. understands the frantic melee that occurs before rushing out of the house.

A nice weekend slumber suddenly turns into a race against time, making finding your keys the equivalent of what Ponce de Leon must have felt when searching for that elusive Fountain of Youth.

In any case, we certainly hope the running back who still drives his newly restored 1991 Mazda was able to get to a local Chick-fil-A before it closed up breakfast business for the day, because there is nothing more horrible than having to settle for the depressing meal known as lunch.

As a quick side note, we like to remind you of this Instagram post from Morris, illustrating his enthusiasm over a bag of beef jerky. The caption reads simply, "Breakfast of Champions!... Not really but it was good lol."

For Shanahan, we have no idea what the man eats for breakfast. We do know, however, that he had to endure the frustration of being stuck of traffic on his way to getting fired.

"On his final day of work, Mike Shanahan pulled his black Audi onto the driveway at Redskins Park a little before 9 a.m. and sat in a jumbled mess," Babb reported.

Robert Deutsch-USA TODAY

The team's security, presumably preparing for the wealth of media, corralled cars and vans into a single lane. So a coach traipsing to the figurative guillotine had to sit in traffic, waiting for the chop.

It was an odd cherry atop an already peculiar mess of an NFL sundae.

Somewhere, Morris, a man of our own heart, was just eager to escape the circus into the comfort only offered by early-morning junk food.

That might be the smartest thing we heard of this entire season, delivered by the most sensible player in the league.